Don't do this to me

I had a friend, Roger, Half-assed drummer, really bad guitar player. We shared a house some 30 years ago. Was fun. It was during the time of the Michiganvasion, and our place backed up on a biker house. We would have band rehearsals, but the bikers took offense. They wanted us to play in their back yard. Hunnerd bucks plus free beer. They were mostly from Michigan, nominally, by way of California, so they were collecting unemployment from Michigan, California, and Texas. Every month a couple pair would set off on their Harleys, one pair to each state, to renew their unemployment checks. Party on! Fun was had. Later, we found this great bass player, Danny Lee. Used a thumbpick and fingerpicks, which is unusual, but he did a thumpin' bass. Ro0ger went and got married and shit, and fell out, but I tried to stay in touch. The local legend Steve Candiman took over on pots and pans. Danny Lee got married again (3rd time?) and started to fade out. Couple of weeks ago I sent Roger a Happy Birthday on Facebook, and was informed he was dead. He died in his house, and the corpse was at least a month old when it was found, 4 months before. Thanks. Ran into a friend at the grocery store. Asked about our mutual friend Danny Lee. 'Oh he's been dead some time now, close on 20 years'. Old buddy of mine from HS, married my OGF (his 4th, her 5th IIRC). 'Oh, he died around '98' Thanks for letting me know. 20 years late. Would have shown at the services, consoled the widow kinda thing. Ihad wondered for years why they didn't answer the phone. I still tried once a month. A dear OGF lives in California. She's undergoing chemo for cancer of the liver, encroaching on the spine. Scares the doo-dog shit out of me. She seems to be holding up well, she's a strong girl, but still. I'm fucking sick and tired of hearing the bad news months, years, decades, after the event.The passing of time does not soften the impact. Sometimes it makes it worse, you bastard. If you're gonna die, let me know.